


Come With Me If You Don't Want Paint On Your Clothes

by Layneee



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Anal Sex, BAMF Castiel (Supernatural), BAMF Dean Winchester, Based on a Community Episode, Bottom Dean Winchester, Crowley is a bad teacher, Dean Really Hates the Glee Club, Dean has a dirty mouth, Episode: s01e23 Modern Warfare, Finals Week, M/M, Oral Sex, Paintball, Swearing, Teachers Assistant Castiel, Top Castiel, authority kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-28
Updated: 2018-11-28
Packaged: 2019-08-20 03:20:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16547882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Layneee/pseuds/Layneee
Summary: Carver Edlund Community College is not very well known for some, well, pretty obvious reasons. Their debate team won a semi-regional trophy once in the eighties. There have been at least three glee clubs in the last five years, each imploding with more and more impressive pyrotechnics. And don't even start with A/V club. But there is one thing CECC is infamous for.Paintball.Once a year, the campus goes to war. And not everyone survives.(except they do because this is paintball we're talking about, just go with it.)Wherein Dean wants to win and Castiel just wants to finish his term paper.





	Come With Me If You Don't Want Paint On Your Clothes

**Author's Note:**

> School has kept me too busy to focus on my longer stories, but I've needed to write something! And then I was watching Community and it was just like BAM. So here it is.

"Fuck! Shit! Goddamn Glee club!"

Dean threw himself under the nearest table, and looked up to see three spots of neon blue explode on the wall above him. "Jo? Charlie! Where the hell are you guys?"

There was a shout from somewhere to Dean's left. "Aw, hell. I'm hit, brother!"

Just Dean's luck. Benny was down for the count, and there was no sign of the girls. Dean checked his clip; it was nearly out. He had a back up, thankfully, but there was no way it was going to get him through to the end. That had been the point of his whole suicide mission. There had been whispers that there was a stash of ammo in the Humanities building. Dean figured they could handle it. He was raised by a goddamn marine. His dad had him doing morning calisthenics and going to the shooting range since he was a preteen. He won a sharp shooting contest as a freshman in high school, for Christ's sake!

But they went in too cocky, too over confident. And they got ambushed by the motherfucking  _glee_ _club_.

And Dean now knows that there is nothing worst than a bunch of community college glee kids rushing you with guns singing "[Billy's Got a Gun](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nfKmzUBZBD8)." It almost ruined Def Leppard for him. Almost.

Speaking of, it was suddenly quiet. Too quiet. "Benny?" Dean whispered. "I need your gun, man. I'm almost out."

There was a quiet _shhhick_ , and Dean caught sight of a black pistol sliding across the carpet. It came to a stop just three feet from him. He could go for it, but that would draw the attention of the enemy who were no doubt lying in wait nearby.

Dean weighed his options, but the need for ammo won out. He would have to go for it. There was a doorway just passed the gun. He didn't know where it led, or if anyone was waiting beyond it, but he did know that it was his only shot of getting out from behind this goddamn desk.

Maybe if he caused a distraction, he could better his chances. A few books lay scattered beneath his feet; their covers bent and covered in splatters of color. Dean picked one up in his gloved hand, careful not to get the paint anywhere near him.

He took two deep breaths, then tossed the book in the opposite direction of the door. It hit the door with a loud thud (because Humanities textbooks were beefy, jeez). They took the bait, and pops rang out. Dean saw the window of opportunity and snatched it. He pushed himself out from behind the desk, staying low to the ground, and grabbed the gun Benny had left for him. There were shouts of "Hey!" and "He's over there!" meaning the glee kids weren't as dumb as their choreography. Dean barely made it through the door before they were chasing after him.

Dean ran blindly, taking random turns hoping to lose them. But if anything they seemed to be gaining speed. At one point he heard goddamned harmonization, and then the whole group started singing Chuck Berry's "[Run Rudolph Run](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MVu4c7dhDRE)."

"It's fucking _May,_ you asswipes!" Dean yelled behind him. He looked forward just in time to collide with a barricade of chairs and desks. "Fuck! It's a goddamn mouse trap."

Dean turned and ran back to a hallway he passed earlier because it looked like a dead end, but it was his only shot. Maybe one of the doors would be unlocked and he could hide out, maybe scale down the wall to the ground. He was only on the third floor.

The glee club was close, he could feel it. So he tried the first couple doors quickly. They were all locked, which was a fucking bummer. He was about to loose faith, when a knob turned underneath his hand and the door flew open.

"Thank fucking Christ!" Dean swore as he rushed in, closed the door, and reached down to lock it only to see there wasn't one on the door. Fuck. Not ideal, but it would work. He took a moment to rest his sweating forehead against the oak.

He made it, at least. Now he just needed to barricade the door. He turned into the room, hoping to grab a chair or something, and was met with a gun pointed at his face.

* * *

Dean Shurley could suck a dick, for all Castiel cared. Why he _always_ planned this damned game during finals week was beyond Castiel. Normally it wouldn't be an issue. In past years he had just stayed home, but this week his wi-fi was down, and he didn't want to go to the Starbucks and chance running into his ex. That meant Castiel had no choice but to use the college wi-fi. He was even willing to shoot himself and get disqualified, but _no!_ Dean Shurley decided that the losers had to leave campus. Something about not risking unnecessary injury.

That mean Castiel had to guard his office with a paintball gun while he rushed to finish his final paper.

The Humanities building was surprisingly busy this year. No doubt Professor Crowley had something to do that. For being a moral philosophy professor he really enjoyed fucking with people. Namely Castiel. He probably spread some kind of rumor to throw off Castiel's concentration. Weren't professors supposed to like their TA's?

Already almost a dozen people had stumbled into his room, only to be shot in the chest for their troubles.

Weren't they ever taught not to fuck with a graduate student during finals week?

When he heard the commotion nearing his door he let himself swear. Because he was about to come face to face with another player, he just knew it, only now he was out of bullets. And he still had four pages left.

His brother always said he had the best poker face, and now seemed as good a time as any to test the theory. He lifted his gun and pointed it at the door.

Somebody was banging around outside his door, and Castiel knew what was coming.  

But that didn't prepare him for _who_ was coming.

A student pushed into his room, and hurriedly slammed the door shut. Castiel watched as he fumbled at the handle before realizing there wasn't a lock. Yeah, Castiel didn't like that either, but his books were too heavy to move to a more secure classroom. The guy slumped over, pressing his head against the door, and something about the position really highlighted a gorgeous set of shoulders. They were broad and the muscles were sharply defined. They were covered, barely, in a white tank top that was so covered in dirt and sweat that Castiel was half tempted to call him John McClane.

He was also wearing a pair of cargo pants over a _delicious_ ass and thick black gloves. All together it was a very appealing package.

Now wasn't the time, unfortunately.

Then the guy turned, and noticed Castiel.

Well, noticed his gun.

Which was unfortunate because Castiel would _not_ be upset if the guy noticed Castiel.

He was gorgeous. He was older, maybe only a year or so younger than Castiel himself. There were laugh lines framing lovely green eyes that were currently widening in surprise. He lifted both hands in the air, guns held loosely in his hands.

"Get out of my room. I won't ask again," Castiel said, making sure to pitch his voice extra low.

"Uhh," the guy stammered. "Please don't shoot me."

Castiel kept his hand steady and raised a single eyebrow. "And why shouldn't I?"

The guy gulped. "I just need a place to lie low. I swear, man. I'll leave you alone as soon as those glee club dicks get bored searchin' for me."

Castiel's lack of bullets kind of meant he had to do as this guy asked, but he needed to seem like he was doing him a favor. "Put your guns on the desk," Castiel said, voice hard like stone. The guy nodded slightly and slowly moved to set the desk down, very obviously keeping his finger away from the trigger. "And any other clips you have." He watched as the other guy reached into one of his pockets and removed a full clip. "What is your name?"

"Dean," he said. His hands moved back to their place on either side of his hands, palms facing Castiel.

"Okay, Dean, this is how things are going to go." Castiel paused and indicated his couch with his gun before focusing it back on Dean. "You are going to sit there, quietly, while I finish this paper. Then, and only then, am I going to allow you to leave. I can't risk you coming back and offing me before I can submit this. Is that understood?"

Castiel watched as Dean's posture shifted just barely. he nodded, with his head bowed but when he lifted his gaze to meet Castiel's he seemed to be... smirking?

"I said, is that understood?" Castiel asked again, forcing as much dominance into his voice as he could.

Dean's smirk remained. "Yes, sir. Understood, sir."

Then he _winked_.

Oh, Castiel was in trouble.

* * *

Oh Boy.

When Dean was a senior in High School, he decided to join JROTC. He figured, why not? He already had most of the skills, and he spent just about every night at the school anyway waiting for Sammy to get done with debate/chess/nerd club. For the first week or so it was not that great. Their leader, some barely graduated _bro_  named Cole, went over drills that he already knew. Cole seemed to think he was God’s gift to the world, and bossed them around like they were his own little army. Dean was about ready to knock his teeth out. Then, a month into the school year, Cole’s job as a recruiter had him moving out of state so the JROTC was taken over by an older gentleman named Cain.

Cain was older than Dean’s dad, but that didn’t stop Dean from getting flustered as all Hell whenever he entered the room. He just had this fucking energy that got all of Dean's juices flowing. Dean may or may have not thought of Cain giving him orders in the bedroom for the remainder of the year. 

Nobody had stoked that fire in Dean since. Well, until now. 

So, yeah. Dean's long dormant authority kink seemed to have woken with abandon.

This weird dude, with his wild hair and insanely blue eyes, was hitting all of his buttons.

Sure, he was nervous at first. It was not pleasant getting shot at point blank range, and this guy seemed like he wouldn't blink at having to do it. But somehow, he didn't. He was allowing Dean to rest and recuperate while he finished his work like some kind of hot, sexy, nerd. Dean couldn't help but flirt a bit. And the guys hungry look was definitely promising. 

Dean flicked his eyes down at his lap to make sure his stiffy wasn't visible.

He sighed in relief. Thank God for cargo pants.

Dean spread his arms out along the back of the couch, knowing damn well how much it showed off his shoulders and arms. Especially in the undershirt he was wearing. 

The guy had turned back to his work, but was keeping both his and Dean's guns within grasping distance. His brows were furrowed, and it was hot as Hell. 

"What's your name?" Dean asked, as he undid the Velcro around his wrists. He waited until the guy's eyes flicked up before pulling the first glove off with his teeth. 

His captor flushed before dropping his gaze back to his screen. "Stop talking." 

"Come on, man," Dean pushed. "It don't have to be like this. I just want your name, that's all."

"If I give you my name," the guy said, still typing away at his computer, "will you be quiet?"

"Let's go with yes," Dean answered. 

The guy sighed and his fingers stilled. "Castiel."

"Mmm, Cas-" Dean stared before he was silenced by another sharp (and  _oh so fucking hot_ ) look. 

"Ah, ah, ah, Dean," Castiel said. "I believe we had a deal. I gave you my name, now you  _shut up_. I have three more pages left. Then you may leave."

Dean couldn't stop the shiver than ran down his spine. 

He was going to blow this guy if it was the last thing he did. 

For now, he had to play by his rules. 

But in three pages, it was so on.

* * *

 Castiel couldn't help but cast glances at Dean, and every time he did Dean was looking back just as intensely. 

Even his ex didn't mentally undress him so blatantly. 

 _Focus, Castiel_ , he told himself. He checked his page count. 

Two pages left. 

 _Then what?_ He wondered. 

He looked up at Dean, who was licking his lips and eyeing Castiel's mouth so hotly it was making his own lips burn. It had been a while since Castiel had gotten off with another person. Finals had a way of doing that to you. And wouldn't now be as good a time as any. Obviously Dean wouldn't be opposed. 

 _Two more pages,_ he thought,  _and then it was so on._

He shifted in his seat, trying to get the situation in his pants under control. He continued to type, his sentences getting a little more run-on than usual, but whatever. He just needed to finish. 

Another paragraph down. Add a citation, adjust argument, defend statement. Another citation. 

The room was stifling. Castiel watched as Dean used the hem of his tank to wipe his brow, exposing his midriff. It was a little soft, but Castiel just knew there was tantalizing muscles underneath. He was still sweaty, despite his rest, and Castiel wanted to lick him clean. 

He shook his head. 

 _Focus_ , he berated again. 

One more page. 

Final argument, conclusion. Double check works cited. Spell check. 

Done. 

Castiel breathed a sigh of relief. He saved his document in his school drive and opened Professor Crowley's dropbox. He dragged the file into the box and released it. Submitted. 

Done and done. 

He glanced up at Dean, who's eyes were (predictably) already on him, and closed the laptop. 

"I suppose you are free to go, Dean," Castiel said, playing into their little game and knowing Dean wouldn't leave yet. 

Dean licked his lips again, but didn't move from the couch. 

"You know, I think I deserve a reward to being so well behaved," Dean said with a twisted grin. 

Castiel stood and stepped out from behind the desk. He approached Dean slowly, enjoying the height advantage he had just a bit. "You don't think me letting you live is reward enough?"

"It is,  _sir_ ," Dean said, the moniker possibly dripping with seduction. "But, I don't know, I think I've been good. You'll like what I have in mind, I promise."

Castiel took another step forward, and then another, until he was standing in between Dean's spread legs. "What did you have in mind?"

In answer Dean's hands came up slowly, and undid Castiel's belt. 

Castiel watched as Dean slid his button free and pulled down the zipper, tooth by tooth. 

"Is this what you want?" Castiel asked quietly, in his own voice, because he needed to make sure. He found he wanted Dean, very badly, but Dean had to want it just as bad. 

Dean looked up at his with a genuine smile. He looked flushed and happy, and very sure of himself. "More than anything, Cas," he replied just as quietly. 

Castiel reached out to run soft fingers through his hair. Some people may have found it too intimate for a first encounter, but Dean leaned right into it. 

"So, your reward, Dean?" Castiel asked, his voice hot and strong once more. 

"I wanna taste you," Dean said, voice playful. He began to pull down Castiel's pants, then looked up again and added, "sir."

"Then proceed," Castiel commended. 

Dean made quick work of pulling Castiel's pants down to his knees, leaving him in just his boxers. Rather than go for gold right away, Dean leaned forward to nuzzle him, mouthing at his hard member through the cotton. 

Castiel swore under his breath and tugged at Dean's hair. He seemed to enjoy it, moaning against Castiel and licking at the rapidly growing wet spot. 

"Condom?" Dean asked. He bit the elastic between his teeth and let it snap against Castiel's skin. 

"In my wallet. By your feet," Castiel supplied. Dean found the item quickly, and tore open this little foil square. Only when he had the condom ready did he pull down Castiel's boxers. 

"Oh, fuck yeah," He whispered (but Castiel managed to hear it) before he rolled the condom down Castiel's shaft and swallowed him whole. 

* * *

Castiel had the prettiest cock. 

It was long and thick, curving up towards his belly, and making him look like some kind of god. 

So much for just blowing him. Dean was going to have this cock inside him if it was the last goddamn thing he did. 

Even with the tang of latex in his nose, Dean could still smell Castiel's unique scent. It was woodsy and a little bit fruity; like he used coconut body wash yesterday. 

He deep throated until Castiel's hair tickled his nose. Under his hands, Castiel was shaking, likely trying not to thrust forward. 

It was sweet and considerate, and  _so not_ what Dean wanted at the moment. 

(They could be sweet and considerate later. Because there was going to be a later.) 

He pulled back until he had just the head in his mouth. He swirled his tongue around it, sliding the tip over the latex covered slit. Dean jacked the shaft, while he pulled his head away, just enough to ask, "You want more, sir?" 

"Yes," Castiel said with a groan. 

Dean used the flat of his tongue to lick a long stripe from root to tip. "Then take it," he said before closing his mouth around the tip again.

Castiel seemed to understand his obvious suggestion, because in the next moment he was holding Dean's head steady and pushing forward. He went slowly, until he knew Dean could take it, and then slammed the rest of the way. Dean fought his gag reflex as he moaned. 

Little curse words and affirmations were slipping from Castiel's lips as he thrust in and out of Dean's mouth. 

Dean ran his hands up and down Castiel's thighs, delighting in the tickle of hair, and then up higher to his balls. He rolled them in his hands, which made Castiel groan. 

Dean's own dick was pressed almost painfully against the zipper of his cargos, but he didn't move to relieve the pressure. This was already so good, he didn't want to miss even a second of it. 

"Dean, look at me," Castiel nearly begged, and who was Dean to say no? He looked up, his eyes locking with Castiel's. "Oh fuck.  _Fuck,_ Dean." 

Dean let his hands go around to Castiel's bare ass, and he dug his fingers in, pulling Castiel harder and faster into his mouth. 

"I'm close," Castiel warned. "Can I... on you... _Dean_... on your face?" 

Dean groaned and nodded, as much as he was able. Castiel seemed to understand, though. The next time he pulled back, he slipped completely out of Dean's mouth. In the next moment the condom was gone and he was jacking himself, coming white stripes over Dean's lips and cheeks. 

"Oh fuck yes," Dean groaned. He slipped his tongue out to get a little taste. 

Delicious. 

Castiel's legs seemed to buckle and he fell right into Dean lap. 

Dean's cock twitched at the contact and he moaned. 

Castiel leaned forward and pressed their mouths together, not caring about his own spent between them. His hands trailed down Dean's chest, then further, until he was able to outline Dean's cockhead with his fingers. "May I?"

"Please," Dean begged. 

Castiel freed him from his pants and wrapped a hand immediately around him. Their mouths remained connected, swapping breaths and their tongues slid against one another. 

Castiel moved his hand up and down, and all too soon Dean was coming between them, gasping his pleasure. 

Even as they grew soft, Castiel didn't stop kissing him. 

It was perfect; romantic and messy. 

That is, until the shots rang out.

* * *

Castiel's head snapped to the door. 

"They're here," Dean whispered ominously. 

"Who's here?" Castiel asked.

"The glee club," Dean swore. He shook his head and pulled Castiel into another wet and final kiss. "Onward to battle, Cas."

Castiel nodded, a little stupefied. 

He moved to slide off Dean's lap, and then together they put themselves away. 

Suddenly, things were a little more awkward. Castiel wanted to ask Dean to stay, or at least for his number, but wasn't sure if that would be welcomed. Turning his back was easier. "I should check that my submission went through," he mumbled. 

Castiel opened the computer again, half watching as Dean pulled on his gloves, ignoring the come stain on his tank top. 

Castiel looked down at the screen and furrowed his brow. Something was wrong. He opened his school email in a new tab, and swore when he saw a new message from Professor Crowley. 

"Fuck," he groaned as he read through the email. 

"What's wrong?" Dean asked as he picked up his extra clip and shoved it into one of his many pants pockets. 

"My professor's dropbox is down. He needs us to submit our papers in his office box," Castiel said. 

"That's not so bad. When's it due?" Dean asked. 

"Today in," Castiel checked his watch, "two hours."

Dean shrugged. "So print it and drop it off. No problem."

Castiel groaned and shook his head. "You don't understand. The printers in this building don't work. Haven't for months. I would need to get to the library, print it, and get back here to drop it off. It's impossible. This paper is worth forty percent of my grade."

Dean nodded along, then grabbed their guns, handing one to Castiel while checking the clip in his own. "Looks like you need an escort."

"What?" Castiel asked, only slightly confused. 

"Can't have you running off alone, sir. It's a war zone." Dean grinned and held out a hand. "Come with me if you don't want paint on your clothes." 

Castiel didn't hesitate before putting his hand in Dean's. "Want to go out after this?"

Dean stole his lips in a kiss. He pulled back and replied, "Absolutely."

* * *

They made their way silently out of the office. 

Dean could hear pops from somewhere to his left. Most likely another group fighting with the glee club. 

"What's the best way out of here, Cas?" Dean asked his companion. "You know this building better than I do."

"There's a stairwell, only really used by the professors," Castiel answered, breath tickling Dean's neck in a very distracting way. 

He paused. "Where?" Castiel indicated the hallway to their left with a grimace. Dean groaned. "Great. Stay low, don't shoot unless you have to. We need to get past the goddamn gleeks."

Castiel nodded in compliance and they started moving. 

The noise of the fight was getting louder, but nothing was coming their way, which was a relief. Dean felt a tap on his left hip, and turned to see Castiel point towards a nondescript door. He nodded back. 

He took one step towards it when he heard, "Over there!" 

"Fuck. Run!" Dean yelled, grabbing Castiel by the collar and throwing him towards the door, spinning to shoot at the glee member who spotted him. 

" _You can run, you can hide, but you can't escape my_ gun!" The glee kid sang. 

"Leave [Enrique](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9mQJaXwGPlg) out of this!" Dean yelled back. He squeeze the trigger and bright pink exploded on the singers forehead. 

"Dean! Come on!" Castiel yelled, holding the door open for him. Dean turned and ran. He heard footsteps behind him and pushed himself faster. "Duck!" Castiel yelled. 

Instantly Dean dropped to his knees and slid on the carpet, right through the doorway. Castiel closed it behind him, turning the lock in the handle. Dean looked himself over, but didn't see any paint. "Phew," he sighed. "That was a close one."

Castiel grinned, and pulled Dean into another kiss. "You're kind of a badass, you know that?"

"Duh, Cas," Dean said with a wink. "Now come on. This won't hold them forever."

They ran down the stairs, throwing open the door onto the quad. 

It was quiet. Dean looked around but didn't see anyone. "Let's make a run for it."

Castiel nodded and the pair took off for the library, they ducked behind trees when they could, but nobody seemed to be outside. 

They made it to the library without having to fire a shot, which Dean was thankful for. Once inside, Castiel took charge, running for the bay of computers. 

"Make it quick, Cas, we're sitting ducks here," Dean said not unkindly. 

Castiel maneuvered the school system easily and was soon hitting Ctrl-P, sending his final paper to the printers. They moved to them as a team, Dean covering his new friend's (boyfriend's? lover's?) back. "Got it?" He asked once the machine stopped humming. 

"Got it," Castiel said with a triumphant grin. "Professor Crowley's office is back in the humanities building. First floor. Can we make it?"

Dean popped out his empty clip, and replaced it with the fresh one from his pocket. "You bet your sweet ass we can. Come on, let's kick some glee club ass."

* * *

Castiel followed behind Dean as they ran back to the humanities building. There was nobody else around, and Castiel had half a mind to suggest that they may be the last two players alive. 

As if the universe heard his thoughts, the front doors to the humanities building was kicked open and a dark skinned man in a tight fitting glee club t-shirt stepped out. Behind him was the rest of the club, but they were all covered in paint. 

"Gordon?" Dean asked, coming to a standstill as he lifted his weapon. "What the hell man? You're in glee?"

"They need a leader, Winchester," Gordon said raising his hands up high. "And so I became their messiah." 

"Cas, you gotta make a run for it," Dean said over his shoulder. "I can hold him off, but he's gonna come for you so you gotta be ready to take him down." 

Castiel groaned. It was time to come clean. "Dean, I don't have any more bullets, I ran out hours ago."

Dean's mouth dropped open in shock. "You're tellin' me you threatened me with an empty gun?"

"I'm told I have an excellent poker face," Castiel explained. "I'm sorry I misled you, Dean."

"Nah, it's not that, Cas." Dean grinned. "Just kinda hot is all."

"If you love birds are done squawking," Gordon said as he made some kind of gesture to his entourage. "I'd like to end this now."

The 'dead' glee club members started singing backup as Gordon starting singing a poor rendition of [Last Man Standing](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IOmMZBZGBps). 

"Ugh," Dean groaned. "I'm just gonna shoot him. Run, baby, I got you."

Castiel did as he was told, and took off as fast as he could. Dean followed after him, doing the best he could to cover his back. He and Gordon exchanged fire, but Castiel didn't see who fell first as he ran into the building. He zigzagged his way to Professor Crowley's office. He threw open the door, not at all surprised to the the man himself situated behind his desk. 

"Having fun, Castiel?" The smarmy professor asked. 

Castiel slammed the paper down, and glared. "I better get a fucking A, you dick." 

Professor Crowley tsk'd with a sly grin. "That's not very nice,"

"Eat me," Castiel shot back, before turning on his heel and walking out of the building. 

Dean was still there, but he had a few new paint stains on his tank top. "Please tell me it's over," Castiel said. 

Dean grinned. "Yup. We took each other out. Which means you're the winner, baby." 

"Hmm," Castiel groaned. "Any plans now that the game is over?" Castiel asked Dean with a raised brow. 

Dean answered by pulling Castiel into a kiss. 

* * *

Twenty minutes later, Dean found himself in the backseat of his baby, panting as Castiel fingered him open. 

Castiel was kissing over the welts the paintballs left on his chest. They were tender, but the slight pain just added the Dean's pleasure. 

Castiel added a third finger along with his other two as he moved to bit at Dean's sensitive nipples. 

"Fucking hurry up, Cas," Dean groaned. "Need you."

"Soon," Castiel answered. "You look so good like this. You want me so bad, don't you?"

"So bad, Cas! Look what you do to me." Dean's hand wandered to where his cock rested on his stomach, rock hard and dripping.

Castiel teased his hole for what seemed like hours, fingers rocking against Dean's prostate relentlessly, but still not enough to make him come. 

"So, tell me Dean, what did I win in this stupid game?" Cas asked as he withdrew his fingers. Dean whimpered, but spread his legs wider when he saw Castiel reach for a condom. Dean opened his mouth to answer, but Castiel chose that moment to push his cock past his rim. Instead of words, a wanton moan escaped. "So?"

Dean groaned as Castiel set a delicious pace, hard thrusts followed by dirty grinds. 

"Tell me, Dean," Castiel said breathlessly. 

"Me?" Dean laughed. 

"Mmm, yes," Castiel hummed with a smile. "That is certainly a prize. But what about the school sanctioned one?"

Dean keened as Castiel's cock brushed his prostate, and Castiel endeavored to do it again on every thrust. 

"Uhh, you get a five hundred dollar gift card to the student store," Dean somehow managed to answer between moans. He whined when Castiel stopped. 

"Huh," he said, before slamming back in making Dean howl. "I'd rather have you."

Dean smiled and pulled Castiel into a wet kiss, pulling him in harder and faster. Dean's orgasm took him by surprise, and he swore he blacked out for a moment. 

When he came to Castiel's face was screwed up in pleasure as he emptied himself into the condom. 

"Best paintball game ever," Dean said with a smile, and was rewarded with a gummy one of Castiel's. "Wanna come back to my place?"

Castiel nodded. "I need to make a stop at the student store first." Dean raised an eyebrow in question and Castiel added, "they sell condom's right?"

Dean laughed, and laughed. Yeah. 

Best game ever. 

**Author's Note:**

> Lots of thanks to Community episode Modern Warfare for the inspiration. Seriously. So good. Go watch.  
> Cool. Cool cool cool.


End file.
